


Just Existing

by MikeWritesThings



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Humor, Mirage | Elliott Witt is Trans, Nonbinary Character, Octane | Octavio Silva is Trans, Trans Character, Trans Mirage, Trans Octane, i cant believe im writing heterosexuals..., well part-time heterosexuals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeWritesThings/pseuds/MikeWritesThings
Summary: Elliott had come out as genderfluid a month ago to the People That Matter (a.k.a, his mom and Wraith), but now, he's not sure if that's right. If he's right at all. Gender just sucks sometimes.Thankfully, there's Bloodhound.





	Just Existing

**Author's Note:**

> i write what i want part 2: electric boogaloo
> 
> minecraft exists in the apex legends universe because [this is what i imagine wraith wears in her downtime](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41gruYld2SL.jpg) . yes i am completely serious . anyways heres wonderwall

“How does this look?” Ellie asked, bending over and allowing her skirt to swish around her thighs. “Doesn’t look weird, does it?”

“I don’t know anything about fashion,” Wraith responded in a deadpan. She was settled on a chair, wearing a Minecraft hoodie and sweatpants. Her socks were mismatched and her converse were stolen from a thrift shop. A far cry from the all-black she wore in the Ring, but distinctly  _ Wraith.  _ And also, like she said, unfashionable.

Ellie huffed, before turning to the mirror placed outside the dressing room and carding her fingers through her curls in an attempt to comb them. Ever since she’d come out to her girlfriend, she’d been anticipating to go out and buy more feminine clothing for herself. They had finally gotten around to it, but Wraith was not very well-versed in fashion. Or shopping. Or a whole lot of things, really. She supposed it came with having lost your memory and all that.

The skirt she had on was cute; pleated and pink, matching her also pink sweater. She wasn’t so sure about it, though. Her legs were hairy and would probably remain that way until she felt like shaving them. Even then, well, she’d still have the beard, which she didn’t want to shave because it makes her look good, and gosh, that wouldn’t be very feminine of her, would it, and maybe she’s overthinking this whole thing and-

“I can hear you thinking,” Wraith sighed, before tipping her head back and draining the rest of her coffee. “Stop worrying, Elliott.”

There was a pause.

“Sorry.” Wraith blinked, face blank. “Ellie.”

“Don’t worry about it. I  _ did _ just hit it with you this morning.”

Ellie had come out as Not-Cis™ to Wraith a week ago, but had only just come up with a name last night. She’d pondered over a million different names, from Alexis to Luna to Corra, before just settling on Ellie. It was close to Elliott, and would be easier for everyone else to remember. She had woken up next to Wraith, who was staring up at the ceiling, face devoid of emotion, and instantly said,

“Can you call me Ellie? Like, on days where I feel like a chick.”

“Yep,” Wraith responded, not glancing her way.

“Cool. I’m gonna go shower.”

“I used all your conditioner last night.”

Ellie had thrown a pillow at her girlfriend’s face, and then huffed away.

Now they were inside an upscale clothing shop, which Ellie had never been into before. She hadn’t been to many clothing shops, ever, actually. Now that she had a considerable amount of cash from the Apex Games, she supposed she could do all the clothes shopping she wanted, but she didn’t particularly like it. Sure, trying on clothes was fun, but the rest of it was a drag.

Maybe she should just order them online. She’d certainly feel less out of place and weird.

In the end, they bought both the sweater and the skirt, and the cashier smiled at them before looking at Wraith.

“This seems a bit too large for you. If you want, one of our associates can help you find something in your size?”

“It’s not for me,” Wraith said, not even looking up at the cashier. She was focused on something in the depths of her near-empty coffee cup, milky blue eyes reflecting nothing. She remained silent after that, and the cashier didn’t know had to respond. Ellie smiled charismatically, and all was forgotten.

They found a restaurant two blocks from the clothing store and ate an early lunch outside, splitting a plate of fries. Ellie enjoyed some sort of specialty bourbon burger while Wraith dipped her fries into her milkshake, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. At one point, she said “duck” and they both did. Three seconds later, a frisbee flew over their head and crashed into a trashcan.

It was pretty useful to have a girlfriend with superpowers. Or clairvoyance. Something like that. Ellie didn’t understand the Void.

“Are you going to shave your beard?” Wraith asked out of the blue, startling Ellie out of her thoughts into choking on her burger.

“Wh-what? Don’t be pr-po-pest...prepos...crazy! Don’t be crazy, why, do you want me to?”

“I don’t care,” Wraith said with a shrug, slightly amused by Ellie’s reaction. “I like it, but I don’t care if you shave it.”

Ellie dragged her fingers across her cheek, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, I’d look more like a girl, wouldn’t I?”

“But you’re not one.”

Ellie stared, feeling a little put-off. “Huh?”

“I mean, not all the time,” Wraith said, looking a bit frustrated at her own wording. “You’re not a girl all the time, or whatever. At least, that’s what you said to me, right? Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Nope,” Ellie said, popping the ‘p’.

Wraith sighed, abandoning her fry and leaving it to drown in her melting milkshake as she placed her fingers on her temple. 

“Okay. So. If you’re not a girl or a guy all the time, it shouldn’t matter how you look. Beard on Elliott is fine. You’re a guy. Beard on Ellie is also fine. You’re a girl. Goes either way. No drastic changes needed. Doesn’t matter if you look the part. Get me?”

“So like.” Ellie frowned, piecing it together in her head. “Doesn’t matter if I look or dress like a girl, I’m still one?”

“I mean, if you feel that way.” Wraith brought her shoulders into a shrug so high they covered her ears. “I’m not you. But I’m just letting you know. Don’t overthink it. You’re fine.”

Ellie smiled, before puckering her lips into a smolder. “I mean, I do like my beard a whole lot. I think it’ll go great with the skirt.”

“I guess.”

“You’re no good at this pep talk shit, you know that, right?”

Wraith dug her fry out of her milkshake, fingers now coated in sticky white. “Uh-huh. Worked though, didn’t it?”   


* * *

Elliott crouched low, peering past the boarded windows and out into the open. He was pretty sure he had seen Octane running across the water like a maniac as gunfire chased after him, though he was unsure if Octane was solo or had a squad. He didn’t feel like risking going after him; his own squadmates had died outside the Ring long ago, pinging their banners in annoyance even after he had made it clear he couldn’t pick them up; it was round four, he’d die instantly.

He was pretty low on a lot of things, having about forty rounds left for his Alternator and only five for his Peacekeeper. They had been wasted in a teamfight, where he had managed to down three opponents. Unfortunately, they were not all on the same squad, and their back-up came in the form of three different other people raining bullets down on he and his own squad.

They had run, but his squadmates (two Nobodys) had died pretty much instantly while he left his decoys behind to get shot at instead. The Ring had caught up to him for a brief second and drained a good amount of his heath, electrifying pulses of heat burning his skin and leaving the smell of singed hair in the air.

Since his health was so low, he’d used four syringes to get himself back in shape, leaving him with a measly two left. His level four shield had only been regenerated halfway because he’d run out of shield cells. Pretty much the only thing he had an abundance of was grenades, which was terrible, because he hardly ever used them.

Currently he was watching the outside, looking for any signs of life. Seven squads were left and he was well within the center of the Ring now, and maybe if he played his cards right, he could snag a win.

(“Playing his cards right” meant camping until top two, then lobbing a few grenades into the tiny Ring and hoping he killed someone.)

Camping was nerve-wracking, for the most part, especially when he heard gunfire in the distance followed by the animalistic shriek of Bloodhound doing. Whatever it is that Bloodhound does. He’d referred to it as ‘sicko mode’ around the hunter once and had been given the silent treatment for the rest of the match, so he was back to just calling it ‘that freaky shit Bloodhound does when their eyes start glowing red.’

He looked at his banner and saw that Bloodhound had just wiped two entire squads by themself, leaving him in the top five, now. Great. Hopefully, things should start speeding up a bit.

Elliott sat there, waiting, for so long that he eventually began zoning out, scratching absentmindedly at his beard as he tried not to focus on the itch beneath his skin. It was an itch he’d been feeling since he’d woken up that morning, shrugging off Wraith’s question of “are you Ellie or Elliott today?” He hadn’t known the answer, and even now, he wasn’t sure.

He somehow felt both masculine and feminine at the same time, so much so that he felt nothing at all. He didn’t know how to word it, exactly. How to express himself. He didn’t know what he’d be expressing. He felt like he could have worn a skirt and been fine, and he also could have worn jeans and been fine as well. Anything would have been fine. But he didn’t feel like anything. He didn’t want to wear a skirt and get called she. He didn’t want to wear jeans and get called he. He just wanted to exist.

The floor of the shack shook with the force of a distant airstrike, and he was startled out of his own internal crisis. Maybe he should get moving in case any other squads ducked into his little hiding spot for cover. He checked his banner and saw that Octane had been killed, leaving four squads left. That was pretty good, he thought. Maybe if he took a few suckers out, he could snag a top three finish. He didn’t care if he won, at this point. 

This thought had just crossed his mind when he heard the telltale sound of Bloodhound’s sonar detector, and sighed through his teeth. Oh well. He had lasted a good long while.

Sending out a decoy in the hopes of distracting Bloodhound for at least half a second, Elliott did a quick check of his inventory, wondering if he could perhaps put a few of his grenades to use, when the door was busted down and he was facing the business end of a Peacekeeper. Probably fully loaded too, unlike his own.

“Hey Hound,” Elliott said with a sigh, putting his hands up in surrender. He’d gone against them while solo before. Usually they gave their opponents a chance to put up their weapons before absolutely demolishing them. Something about honor or the Allfather or whatever.

Bloodhound didn’t lower their shotgun, but asked, “Giving up?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Top four is okay.” Elliott flashed a quick grin, before an idea struck him. 

Elliott didn’t know that many Not Cis™ people. There was himself and Octane and Bloodhound. And maybe one of his ex-girlfriends. The number of trans friends he had could be counted on one hand, and Bloodhound seemed wise. Asking them for help on figuring out why he felt like  _ Gender Fucking Sucks  _ might stray into far too personal territory, but it was worth a shot, right?

“Hey, actually, before you kill me, can we talk? Actually, you know what, kill me first, can we talk after the match?”

A moment of consideration. Elliott could hear Bloodhound’s teammates yelling outside for their third squadmate, and another airstrike. Bangalore must be having a field day.

Finally, Bloodhound gave a curt nod, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up and covering his face in agony. He didn’t think the fucker would shoot him in the face! God, he should have asked for them to shoot him in the chest. Fuck, this hurt.

He heard a laugh and glared up through the hair falling into his eyes. Octane sat in a chair across from him, laughing his ass off at Elliott’s pain, though the laugh soon morphed into pained coughing.

“Good. I hope it hurts, asshole,” Elliott groaned, watching Octane grip his abdomen tightly. “Peacekeeper to the face. That was _ cruel. _ ”

“It was  _ funny, _ ” Octane wheezed, voice straining from whatever internal pain he was feeling. “I don’t even care if it hurts, amigo, that was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what you two were talking about, but I can only  _ imagine _ you begging for your life.”

“I don’t beg!” Elliott countered, though they both knew that was a lie. The other man finally settled down, bringing his hand up to yank his headgear off, revealing sweaty hair matted to his forehead and too many piercings to count. 

“Sure,” Octane said with a slight roll of his eyes. “What, did you ask them out on a date?”

The two of them had been on a squad only once before, and had bonded pretty well, though it didn’t show. Mostly because Octane teased everyone he was grouped with, though by now Elliott could tell the difference between the mean-spirited teasing he aimed at opponents and the lighthearted teasing he used with friends.

(“You’re lucky I like you,” Octane had said the first time he’d revived Elliott that match, and Elliott had flirted with him like an idiot. They Don’t Talk About That.)

Octane was also one of the only people he was out to, so far. Mostly because he felt some sort of obligation after accidentally walking in on the other taking off his binder. It was only fair if Octane knew about his Gender Situation™ too, right? So Elliott felt comfortable saying,

“Nah, I just asked about gender stuff. You know. The big questions.”

“Ah. Gender talk.” Octane suddenly looked fake-hurt, lips forming an exaggerated pout. “What, you can’t talk about gender stuff with  _ me? _ I’m hurt, compadre.”

“It’s different,” Elliott tried to explain, though he couldn’t think of the proper way to say it. “Uh, I just, don’t think I fit in the b...bi...ben. Ben thing. Bendary. That thing. You know.”

A pause. Octane’s eyebrows were furrowed, clearly not getting what Elliott was trying to say.

“Is this a language barrier thing?” The other finally asked, before digging around in his pants pockets. “Uno momento, por favor, I’ve got a translator app somewhere.”

“I think I just forgot the word,” Elliott admitted.

“Well, that makes more sense.”

“Fuck you.”

At that moment, Wraith appeared out of nowhere into the room, the ghost of a smirk on her face, clearly proud. She spread her arms wide, and it went without saying that she was champion.

“Proud of you,” Elliott said, making a few kissy faces at her, and she ducked her head, barely hiding the fact that she was rolling her eyes.

“Ew,” Octane groaned, getting to his feet and wincing. “I hate couples. Being all gross and shit.”

“I hate them too,” Wraith said, ignoring Elliott’s indignant yelp. She and Octane exchanged a brief high-five. “I  _ am _ kicking you out of here, though. Go back to your own room.”

“I  _ knew _ you secretly hated me.” Despite his words, Octane was smiling, and left soon enough. Wraith sat at the edge of Elliott’s bed, giving him a silent stare. Feeling a little uncomfortable, he smiled awkwardly and said,

“So, uh...You won!”

“You died,” was all she said. “I saw it happen.”

“Well, that’s what happens when people lose, you see.”

She cocked her head to the side, not acknowledging his humor. “You were talking to Bloodhound.”

“Oh.” Here, Elliott didn’t know what to say. Should he talk to her about it? She was his girlfriend, after all. But at the same time, he feared she wouldn’t quite...get it. Would she think he was making it up, or making a simple situation more complicated? It had only been a month since he’d come out to her, after all. What if she didn’t take him seriously?

Suddenly, Wraith turned her head to the door, still. A couple seconds of silence later, she said, “Come in.”

The door opened, but Elliott hadn’t heard anybody knock. Wraith’s Voices strike again. Probably. Most likely. Did they do that?...

Bloodhound entered, showing no outward displeasure of having lost the game, and instead nodding courteously to Wraith. Elliott shifted, swinging his legs over the side of his bed so he wouldn’t be lying down while talking to them. He was suddenly a little nervous, despite being the one to ask them if they could talk together, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Wraith jump through a portal out of the room, leaving them alone together.

“Good evening, Mirage,” Bloodhound greeted, bowing their head. “May I ask if you are Elliott or Ellie today?”

“Um, actually, Hound,” Elliott said, wincing at the fact that he had stuttered his way through that whole sentence. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about?”

Bloodhound didn’t respond, but their body language was open and relaxed, waiting for him to continue, so he did.

“I know I came out to you, like, a while ago, but um, I think I’m having some. Problems? With gender. Yeah. Technical difficulties, if you will.”

Elliott could have sworn he heard the faintest chuckle from Bloodhound, but a second later Bloodhound spoke as if nothing had happened.

“What kind of problems?”

God, where did he even start? How? Could it even be explained cohesively at all? He hadn’t really thought this through. Should he start by explaining that he just didn’t want to fuck with the terms ‘male’ or ‘female’ right now? How he was existing between them and yet outside of them?

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “How do you identify?”

He regretted it almost instantly. That was  _ insanely _ personal, and Bloodhound was the most private person he knew. He wouldn’t be surprised if they stormed out in anger at such an invasive question, but instead, Bloodhound just hummed a little curiously.

“I would say I don’t identify at all. That is, I am just me, and I exist outside of the rigid structures set up by society.”

“What,” Elliott said, a little shocked that he had received a response at all. “Spell it out in dumb people terms for me?”

“I am  _ Blóðhundur.  _ I am not a man nor a woman, and applying those terms to me restricts who I am. I identify as nothing, and therefore I am free.” Bloodhound crossed their arms, but their stance was still relaxed. “Nonbinary, in simple terms. I imagine your gender fluidity has brought you to this point?”

“Yeah,” Elliott admitted a little sheepishly, bringing his hand up to mess a bit with his hair. “It’s just, that, I know I already came out, like, hey sometimes I’m a chick and sometimes I’m a guy! But sometimes I’ve just been feeling like none of that is right? Like I’m not supposed to be one or the other, like, does that make sense? I mean that doesn’t mean I’m not a girl or a guy, I just don’t want to put it to terms, you feel me? You know what, I don’t think gender exists, actually. Isn’t that crazy? I’m crazy. I bet you think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

He said all of this in one breath, and without stuttering once. Bloodhound waited for him to finish and catch his breath, arms still crossed. Elliott wished they would take off their mask so he could read their expression, to see how crazy they thought he was. But they didn’t and they didn’t speak for a long time. The silence dragged on to the point that it was starting to become unbearable, and Elliott wanted to leap to his feet and shout “speak to me!”

Finally, Bloodhound said, in a pondering sort of tone, “I am not you, so I cannot tell you how to identify. But it could be that using ‘they’ and ‘them’ during such times could bring you comfort, if being gendered at all does not feel right.”

They and them? Like Bloodhound? Sure, his mind had jumped to that conclusion already, but he hadn’t been sure if it was the right one. Even now, after the other had explained it to him, he wasn’t sure. He was sure his doubt must be showing on his face, because Bloodhound tipped their head and said,

“Try it out for a little bit. Ask the others to use those terms when you feel that way. If it does not work for you, then you could always find some other option.”

They then turned their back, reaching for Elliott’s door. “I have matters to attend to, but please let me know how it goes. I hope I helped.”

“Thank you,” Elliott called as they closed the door behind them, and he was left alone. Replaying the conversation in his mind, he tried imagining what it would be like to refer to himself with those pronouns. They weren’t gendered, like he or she, and...could it be freeing? Like Bloodhound had described?

He didn’t want to use them  _ all the time. _ He was sure if he felt like Ellie but got called ‘them’ when feeling more feminine, it’d hurt just a little bit. But they would definitely help in situations where Elliott was just. Well. There. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” a voice said out of nowhere, and Elliott gave a shout, promptly falling off the bed. Wraith was sitting on the bed, presumably having just hopped out from one of her portals. Thankfully, she must have anticipated him falling, because she’d also placed a portal on the floor, so he ended up falling through it and back onto his bed instead of hitting the hardwood.

“Please stop doing that,” Elliott groaned, massaging his chest and collapsing back against his pillows. “I’m going to die of a heart attack before my thirty-first birthday, at this rate.”

“That would be an anticlimactic death,” Wraith hummed, before asking, “So what did you guys talk about?”

Elliott pursed his lips, hesitating. He knew Bloodhound had told him he needed to tell others how to address him, but to do that, he needed to explain how he felt in the first place, and he...wasn’t sure how to do that. In a way that Wraith would understand. Maybe Bloodhound had understood because  _ Gender Fucking Sucks, _ but Wraith was, as far as he knew, cis, and might not get it.

His thoughts battled with one another, and he realized, with shock, that they’d been sitting there for at least five minutes in complete silence, and she was still staring at him, waiting. Giving her a sheepish, awkward grin, he struggled with finding something to say, doubt bubbling up in his chest, before he released it out in a sigh.

“Um, so. Gender. That’s what we talked about.”

Wraith’s eyebrows raised, just slightly. “Oh?”

“And how, sometimes, I...feel like nothing?”

Her eyebrows lowered again, furrowing. “Yeah?”

Oh god, this wasn’t going well, was it? “I m-mean, like. Sometimes I’m Ellie and Elliot, yeah? Obviously, you know that, but um, sometimes I’m just nothing. Sometimes I’m between them. “

Wraith didn’t respond, nor did her expression change, so Elliott began flailing his arms around a little bit.

“I mean, like, sometimes, gender just doesn’t exist. Gender is a v-v-void. It’s in a void! I’m in a void! I’m just me!”

“Void...” Wraith mumbled, eyes drifting away from Elliott to stare off into the distance. Elliott had a feeling she was thinking of a completely different Void, but it was something he could work with! 

“Yeah! In a void. If I’m in a void, I’m not Ellie or Elliott. I’m just me. Some third person. And both at the same time? It’s hard to explain. It’s just me in there.”

“Does that make sense?” Wraith phrased it like a question, but there was no change to her tone. “To you?”

Elliott squirmed, feeling he was being scrutinized by her milky blue gaze, but nodded anyways.

“That’s good enough for me, then.” She shifted away from him, just slightly, and stretched her arms, allowing an uncharacteristic display of tiredness. “Should I address you like Bloodhound?”

“Yeah,” Elliott sighed, relieved that he’d gotten his point across, at least. “I mean, not all the time. Ask me how I feel. Maybe I’ll even come up with a name for when I feel like that?”

“Just go with Ell.” Wraith suggested. “Could be Elliott or Ellie or it could be both.”

Elliott gave a bit of a laugh. “That’s a lot of names for one person to have.”

“I think it’s good to have several names than none at all,” Wraith said, turning her back on him, and he shut up instantly, feeling guilty. She probably didn’t mean to make him feel that way, however, because she continued in a light tone, “Let’s grab something to eat. Winning makes me hungry.”

Smiling, Elliott stood up and exited the room (from the door, unlike Wraith, who merely jumped through a portal to reach the outside), spotting Octane and Lifeline sitting side-by-side against the wall, talking among themselves.

“Hey kids,” he greeted, and they both looked up at him, matching looks of curiosity on their faces. “You want to eat something with us?”

“Only if you tell me what you and Hound talked about,” Octane said instantly, and Lifeline hit him on the shoulder with a mutter of “that’s private!”

Elliott didn’t mind so much after telling Wraith, though, so he just smiled and waved Lifeline’s concerns away. He needed to tell people after all, if he was going to feel better about the whole thing. “Deal. Come on, let’s go. I’m feeling like porkchops?”

**Author's Note:**

> i might make a part two idk anyways heres my [twitter](https://twitter.com/tsodmike?lang=en) and my [tumblr](https://seerofmike.tumblr.com) please talk about mirage apexlegends with me
> 
> this is a gift fic for my friend kitty....i love you biiiitch....and i aint ever gonna stop loving you....biiitch


End file.
